


a dreamless state of mind

by irishcookie



Series: Darcy Lewis Smut Week [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad Dreams, Darcy Lewis Smut Week, F/M, Some Plot, some smut, vague spoilers for all mcu movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7106599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishcookie/pseuds/irishcookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy can't seem to shake her nightmares.  She prefer to deal with it alone but Steve is having none of it.  Written for the Darcy Lewis Smut Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dreamless state of mind

**Author's Note:**

> Day One: Bad Dreams.
> 
>  
> 
> This is my first attempt at Darcy Lewis related smut. Some plot wanted to come play along so I let it. Hopefully it all works.

Darcy misses her bed. It has the perfect pillow to blanket ratio, a groove that has taken her months to perfect and most importantly --- _solitude_. She does not do sleep well. She prefers to attempt it alone to avoid bothering others (or worse, finding herself on the business end of too many questions).

Currently she is curled up on a surprisingly soft mattress. There are a few others in the room (she can hear their rhythmic breathing and is jealous). The rest are spread throughout the remainder of their cramped quarters. She hates this part of any mission: the downtime when she is _supposed_ to be recuperating lost energy. Instead she tosses and turns and _fights_ sleep.

She won’t win; she can’t. 

Darcy sighs before turning on her side. She has been dream free for a while (blissfully so). She’s due and she hates that she is here of all places when she realizes that. If she were in the safety of her own bedroom, she would turn on a light and distract herself with some silly app (her latest obsession is _Plants vs. Zombies_ ). No such luck here. Not when she is surrounded by super soldiers and assassins, all who have seem to have extra senses not afforded to her.

Her eyes feel heavy and finally sleep claims her, dragging her down deep. Her fears are warranted. She never stops to think that her fear of dreaming no doubt triggers one; it is a vicious cycle after all. At first she dreams of Jane. Thor. Or truthfully, his laughter --- it echos through her head space. It is bright (too bright). Still she smiles until the darkness finally starts to seep in, running down the walls and tainting everything it touches. Then she runs. She tells herself that she is dreaming. She repeats it until it becomes a mantra.

She wakes with a jolt, her body jerking into a seated position. Her chest is heaving and she pulls her knees up to rest her chin on them. She forces herself to take a few deep breaths and then eyes her roommates. It takes her a moment or two to see them in the dim light but it helps to know that they are still asleep.

She has had enough for the night. 

She carefully turns her body, her feet pressing against the cool tiled floor. She is quiet as she makes her way through their current base of operations. She takes a seat on the middle step of the front porch and just looks at the vast empty desert in front of her. It is as close as she is going to get to being alone. She’ll have to make do.

There are a few hours until the rest of the world wakes up to go about its business. She doesn’t plan on spending them sleeping. She’ll go over their current mission in her head. The operating system this Hydra cell is using is new to her but she has faith that she can crack her way through it (the others do too; they’ve told her so). She can’t wait for the moment when she’s in and every dirty secret those bastards are trying to hide comes spilling over her screen. It will no doubt lead to more missions (more fighting) but at least they’ll know they are on the right track.

Darcy doesn’t realize she is cold until she starts rubbing her arms with her hands. A t-shirt and a pair of shorts are not exactly proper attire for sitting out at this time of night. She doesn’t want to go in but she’ll end up a shivering mess if she stays out much longer.

“Here.”

For the second time in less than an hour, her body starts. This time her arms flail a little and her fingers end up curling around the nearest railing. The heavy weight of a blanket immediately soothes her and she looks up just in time to see Steve settling in next to her. He is too broad shouldered to share the space without pressing against her but she finds that she likes that. She pulls the blanket tightly around her.

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” she states with a slight smile.

Steve’s head dips and he grins. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”

It doesn’t take Darcy long to warm up. They are quiet for a minute or two until she is comfortable. She wouldn’t mind if they were quiet for a bit longer but the way Steve is looking at her tells her she will have no such luck.

“You ready to talk about it?” He asks.

See, this is why she likes the solitude of her own room. This conversation wouldn’t even be happening. “I had a dream,” Darcy tells him and she shrugs under the weight of the blanket. “It happens.”

“ _A lot_ ,” he corrects. “It happens a lot.”

Darcy gives him a look. _Figures_ \--- Steve is a stickler for details. “You been watching me sleep, Rogers?” She injects a bit of teasing in her tone, hoping to redirect the conversation elsewhere. 

He moves as much as the space will allow him. She can see his face better this way. “Yes.”

She can tell by the way he speaks that he will not be swayed off course. She takes a moment to decide whether or not she should find it creepy that Steve Rogers has watched her closely enough to understand her sleep patterns. 

She doesn’t find it creepy. In fact, she finds it just the opposite.

“Okay, I dream a lot,” she concedes. “That’s par for the course. You can’t be chased by fire breathing metal bots and dark elves without that playing some kind of havoc on your subconscious.” Steve shifts a little and she finds that she nearly pinned in between he and the railing. She knows that if she wants space she just has to ask. For now, she just sort of leans into him. 

“Is that what you dream about?” He asks.

Darcy nods. “Most of the time. Every now and then a _what if_ gets thrown in there. What if Loki had won? What if Hydra figures out the one who is dumping viruses onto their systems is a former intern who has one hell of a student debt?” She pauses because that is a hypothetical question she rather not see answered. “Oh, and every now and then I have a dream that I show up to my final exam completely naked. That one is standard dream stuff though. Everyone has that one.” Even him ( _there’s an image_ ).

“You don’t talk about them to anyone. Not even Dr. Foster.” Yep, Steve has been playing close attention. “You shouldn’t hold that stuff in.”

“Jane has enough on her plate without adding in the potential guilt factor. After all, I followed her to both New Mexico and across the pond. She’d take it to heart,” Darcy reasons. Jane barely sleeps for very different reasons. Darcy is not going to rob her friend of what little relaxation she actually got. “And Thor --- I am sure that Thor would attempt to use Mew Mew to help solve the issue. Hardly practical.”

“It’s not,” Steve agrees. He makes sure she is looking at him before he speaks again. “You can talk to me.”

Darcy pauses. Then makes a face. “I can only imagine what you dream about, Steve Rogers. I don’t jump headfirst into a fist fight with anything that even so much sneezes in the general direction of peace. It’s small potatoes in comparison.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says and she goes rigid for a second (she has never heard him say anything like that). “It’s not a contest, Darcy. We’re not playing _who’s got it worse_. You can’t sleep --- that’s a problem and not one you’re going to solve on your own. You can’t discount it because it is different than the problems Dr. Foster has. Or I have. You need to talk about; you come to me. Simple as that.”

He speaks in such a way she almost utters _yes sir_. Instead she nods. “Okay, I get it.” Part of her still fights against the idea because she is so used to everything she has done up until now --- which admittedly is very little. “Just remember you invited yourself into my head.” She takes a deep breath. Her body aches from lack of sleep but her mind is moving at too quick a pace to do anything about it. “By the way, if you thought you could lull me back to sleep you’re about to be disappointed.”

“Fair enough,” Steve says. “Let’s go over the plan for later today. I’ll make coffee. You make pancakes?”

Darcy snorts but allows him to help her to her feet. As he holds open the door, she gives him a look. “I’m telling Tony you swore.”

**X**

She sticks to the deal they made.

When she dreams, she tells him. She suspects that in some cases he already knows (many of the places they stay have thin walls). Sometimes he asks for details. Sometimes she just tells him because once she starts everything pours out. He never pushes too hard and she has to give him credit for that.

Darcy finds that she sleeps better.

So when she jolts up in her own bed two weeks after the mission ends, her first instinct is to go to him. 

Darcy places a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating wildly under her palm. Her skin is covered in a sheen of sweat and she shakes from the boost of adrenaline that kick started her awake in the first place. A quick glance at her clock reveals that it just past two. She can wait it out. Probably catch him on his run in a few hours.

_Or…_

She throws a coat over her shirt and shorts, slips on her shoes and walks the distance between her place and his. Her fingers are on her taser the whole time and she wonders if she should have dipped into her reserves for cab fare. She makes it in one piece and takes a deep breath before she knocks on the door.

When it opens she realizes Steve doesn’t have a shirt on and his pajama pants are slung low on his hips. It is a bit distracting and in the time it takes for him to rub the sleep out of his eyes she finds her voice. “Uh...I had a dream.”

Steve reaches down to take her hand in his so he can pull her into the apartment. She is vaguely aware of the door shutting before his arms wrap around her. She rests her head on his chest, liking that she can feel him breathing and hear his heart beating. “It was Hydra,” she begins, her voice quiet. “They found me. They knew what I had done to help you and the rest of the Avengers. _They…_ ”

She can’t say anymore. He doesn’t ask her to.

Instead he just holds her. 

Steve is the one who ushers her to his bed. Wordlessly, she slips off her shoes and coat and climbs in beside him. He tucks her under his arm and she marvels at how warm ( **safe** ) she feels. “Go to sleep, Darcy,” he tells her.

It takes some time (he goes before her) but in the end she sleeps.

Dreamlessly.

**X**

When she wakes the sun is just starting to stream in through the cracks of the curtain. She shifts a little and finds him looking down at her. For a split second she feels self conscious with her hair askew and her oversized t-shirt tangled up in a bunch. But he’s smiling at her and that makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. “How long you been watching me sleep?”

“Long enough to know you snore,” Steve counters.

Darcy makes a face. “I do not snore.”

“You do.” Steve looks wholly amused with himself. “Kind of sounds like a freight train.” She smacks him on his chest and he lets out something resembling a yelp. “I deserved that, huh?”

“You’re damn right,” Darcy tells him. She tries to roll away from where she is trapped against his side but he holds on tight. She pauses and then moves so her upper body is draped over his chest. She is carefully not to drill her elbow in too hard but figures he can take it. Her eyes move over his face. “Steve?”

One hand comes up to play her in hair and a thumb swipes over her cheek. “I want to kiss you right now.”

Darcy blinks. This is out of left field, right? This is because he knows something about her that no one else does? This is because he understands? She thinks over the past few weeks. Of _all_ their conversations --- not just the ones in which she has opened herself up to him. She has told him about her family, shown him every him every meme she thought was remotely funny and insisted that he watch _Grease_. She realizes she has spent more time with him than anyone else. It would be easy to say it is because he offered to listen but she knows there is more to it than that. This has the potential to get complicated.

Then again, she has never shied away from things like that. After all, she once watched a god fall from the sky and she didn’t run screaming. Maybe she likes complicated (maybe she _likes_ him). 

Darcy inches closer and presses her mouth to his. His fingers tighten the moment she opens her mouth just a little and then he is rising up to meet her.

She’s never been kissed like this before.

It’s funny, because she has (like many) assumed that Steve Rogers is far too old fashioned to kiss a girl senseless in under five seconds. She has expected something chaste. He gives her the opposite and it is only when she is under him blinking in surprise does she concede that she is wrong. 

“Holy hell, Rogers,” she breathes.

He’s got a stupid grin on his face. “Been thinking about doing that for months now.”

_Months?_

“Let a girl in on it next time, will you?”

“Thought I was,” Steve tells her and he shifts a little. It is automatic for her to splay her legs wide enough for him to fit against her. Even through their clothing she can _feel_ him. “Guess I was being too subtle.”

“Definitely,” Darcy agrees. She tangles his hands in his hair. “You need to work on that. Kissing on the hand --- you’ve got that down pat.”

He proves that once again, kissing her until she needs to come up for air. She can’t help but let her hands roam, delighting in the way he seems to shiver against her touch. Of course he returns the favor moments later, his hands inching underneath her t-shirt to press against her breasts. Her back arches a little, wanting as much contact as she can get. She might even roll her hips ever so slightly and smiles when a groan rumbles deep in his throat.

“So, we can lie here like this --- touching each other, kissing, _definitely kissing_ ,” Darcy begins and closes her eyes as he traces a finger around her nipple. “Or we can get rid of these clothes, do all of the above and more…”

“I like that plan,” Steve says. 

“Good, it was the one I was going for,” Darcy agrees with a nod of her head.

They help each other out of their clothing. Darcy thinks she must turn a shade of pink at the way he looks at her (like he wants to devour every inch). He once again defies her pre-existing notions, showing no modesty when it came to getting naked (though now that she got a good look at _all of him_ , he has good reason to be proud). 

They fall back on the bed together and he replaces the finger with his tongue, tracing it in a circle around her breast. She’s got her fingers curled around his shoulders and gasps softly when he closes this mouth around a nipple. A hand covers her other breast to ensure it doesn’t get lonely --- or maybe Captain America is a boob man (she figures she’ll find out over the next few days). 

Darcy would like to think that she can even the score (because so far he has had her on the ropes) but he ups the ante by trailing his mouth down her stomach, pressing it to her hip bone before going even lower. Her eyes widen a little but before she can say anything he presses his tongue against her mound and the words die, replaced instead by a cry that turns into a string of nonsense as he works her towards an orgasm. 

(kissing is not the only thing he has down pat)

She has a hand fisted in his hair and the other in his sheets. She can feel it, feel how close she is. She lets out a pitiful moan and swears she feels him smile against her. “Come on now, doll,” he tells her and she nearly curses him out for stopping. “No reason to hold back.”

No reason. None at all --- so she doesn’t.

Her back lifts off the bed and she cries out as her orgasm rips through her. She can feel a hand curving around her hip, gently pressing her back down. Grounding her as she comes off that high. She still has her mouth slightly open though no sound is coming out when he leans over to steal a kiss. She can taste herself on him ( _holy fuck_ ). 

Darcy finally regains enough know how to reach down and close her fingers around his cock. He stutters against her and she grins, feeling like she has evened the scoreboard just a little. She tightens her grip ever and he presses himself into her hand. For a moment or two they do that, her free hand moving to press against his cheek. He has his eyes closed and she’s got her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Finally he seems to snap out of it, pulling away from her. She almost pouts.

“You keep that up and…”

“Ah,” Darcy says but she is pleased with herself of course. She almost made Captain America come in her hand. That sounds like a feat. 

Steve produces a condom from somewhere (she has been too busy admiring _the view_ to pay close attention). He practically falls on her and she opens her legs to fit them snugly around his hips. She helps guide him into her, and he snaps his hips to drive himself home. There is a split second where it feels like all the air has left her lungs. He looks down at her, concern seeping into the haze of lust that has settled over him. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” she confirms. To prove it, she hooks a leg over his lower back and rolls her hips. _God that feels good_.

He gets the idea and the two fall into fast rhythm (they’ll be time to go slow later, she decides). She’s already had one orgasm so it doesn’t take much for her to fall into her second. All he has to do is reach down and brush a finger over that sensitive nub between her legs and she is coming undone around him. He thrusts erratically now and then slumps against her with a loud groan.

She wraps all her limbs around him, liking his weight against her. Her hands idly move in circles on his back and he turns his head to press his lips to the space where her shoulder meets her neck. “Months huh?” She repeats.

He laughs.

Later when he rocks into her gently, she decides that she likes this bed. Sure, it could use an extra pillow or two and it might take awhile for her to find that perfect groove. But he’s there and he’ll help chase the dreams away.

She can sleep happily knowing that.


End file.
